


A System of Sequential Relations

by blehgah



Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 10:39:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4518702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blehgah/pseuds/blehgah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuan reflects on his relationship with his long-time friend. Takes place after Lloyd releases Origin's seal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A System of Sequential Relations

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally in my oneshot/drabble collection, but i think it makes more sense as a stand-alone. kinda shippy if you squint.

The blood on Yuan's hands dissipates with the help of magic. The red slithers from his skin into the air. If only the wounds all over Kratos' body would be so easy to deal with.

"We need to get out of here," Yuan grumbles, lifting his head to scan his surroundings, "All this blood and mana will attract monsters."

Kratos mumbles something incoherent. Yuan's glad, in a defeated sort of way; at least Kratos can't talk his ear off as his body starts to succumb to its injuries. He can imagine it too easily: Kratos complaining about him stating the obvious, that if the matter is so urgent, why isn't he already on his feet and moving?

The answer to that question is the lack of mana. That's the answer to every question lately, Yuan thinks bitterly. A lack of mana thanks to ancient idiots, their brainless corpses well over four thousand years old. Unlike them, Yuan isn't so lucky; cursed with immortality and the responsibility of taking care of a world those selfish bastards left behind.

Yuan's body is weak, but at least neither of them are dying. Botta's assistance would be perfect right about now. The thought rises and falls in his mind for only an instant; he's too pragmatic to think of it for too long. Though they'd been old friends, friends for years, Yuan had put him to rest back when Lloyd's group had initially given him the news.

Right now, he has a different friend to deal with. He and Kratos have been old friends, friends for years, and now is not the time for him to put him to rest. Lloyd has touched them too, left a mark on ancient beings such as themselves, and it feels familiar, somehow.

Lloyd resembles Mithos and Yuan isn't sure if that's a good or a bad thing.

Yuan's muscles ache as he gets to his feet. His core is sore and it complains, creaks, as Yuan tries to lift Kratos into an upright position. Kratos sways, but his body is eventually persuaded into standing.

His warm and bloody side presses against Yuan's. This is familiar, familiar in that not-so-hazy way that four thousand years can't erase from his brain, from his memories. Sometimes he thinks that memories are just magic and that he holds too much magic in his cursed blood, but he hasn't had the time or resources to confirm that theory as of late. Four thousand years later and he's still filled with so many questions, so many unknowns that drive his tireless thoughts into the ground.

Yuan looks around again. The nearby monsters send him curious looks when Yuan and Kratos happen to cross into their field of vision. Yuan huffs and tests the limits of his magic.

The mana in his body has simmered to a shallow puddle. The majority of it had gone into keeping this blasted human alive, and the rest of it barely keeps him standing. His reserves reside in the tips of his fingers and toes and in the fibres of his guts, and if he pulls and pulls and pulls, he can extract them, use them to get him out of this mess.

One day he ought to thank his body, treat it for treating him so well. Maybe one day, when he has time and can finally relax.

Yuan glances at Kratos' face. He's out cold. Finally, finally.

With one last glance at the darkening, purple sky, he thinks that maybe he'll be able to rest sooner than he estimates. Finally, finally.

* * *

Kratos stirs just as they fly over Heimdall. At this point, most of the damage has been dealt; chunks of the Tower of Salvation are scattered everywhere, laying waste upon the land.

"Yu... an...." he mumbles, curling a fist into Yuan's cloak.

Yuan begins his descent, trying to keep his breath steady. "What."

"Lloyd," Kratos continues, stronger this time, "We need to... Make sure he's still alive."

"You're still worried about him?" Yuan heaves a sigh. "Not only did he fight you and come out relatively unscathed, he fought Origin, too. You're really wondering if he's still alive?"

Kratos makes a noise in the pit of his chest and Yuan sighs.

"Fine." Yuan runs a hand through his hair. Neither of them are in their best state, but Lloyd and his group can't know that. He continues supporting Kratos, bearing most of his weight until they reach the outskirts of the village.

He pulls from the remaining dregs of his mana. It burns a steady, searing pain through the vessels of his blood, but it's a necessary sacrifice. Most of Kratos' blood has dried by now, though his current expression speaks of a pain Yuan can't divine; at least, from a separate body. Part of Yuan thinks that Kratos might be feeling sympathy for Yuan with that weak human heart of his, but he doesn't think much of it, not when there's so little time to think.

Yuan inhales deeply, sharply, and steadies his shaking muscles.

"Go," he tells Kratos, two inches away from shoving him towards his destination.

Kratos' gaze lingers on Yuan's face before he walks into the village to interrupt Lloyd's group at the entrance.

* * *

That annoying human just  _had_ to go with Lloyd's group to Sylvarant. The man's dying and he has to play the hero to his damn son.

Of course Yuan follows them. The lingering traces of Yuan's mana in Kratos' body makes him easy to track, but that's just one factor stacked on top of the trail of Volt's mana that the rheairds leave behind. Add that to the transportation records through the Renegade bases and Lloyd may as well have held Yuan's hand and dragged him to Dirk's house.

Yuan only walks onto the dwarf's property when Lloyd's party leaves. Kratos is on his way out when their eyes meet.

"You're in no condition to follow them to Derris-Kharlan," Yuan states, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Lloyd may need my help dealing with the angels," Kratos responds. His feet aim to walk past Yuan, but Yuan extends an arm and catches him around the middle.

The physical contact helps Yuan evaluate the mana remaining in Kratos' body. It's less than half of his normal mana levels, maybe around a third.

"Listen," Yuan hisses, "Lloyd is capable. Lloyd's stronger than you, stronger than me, and probably even stronger than Yggdrasill. He'll be fine. You, however, are at less than optimal levels of mana and you need to rest."

Kratos levels a glare at Yuan. "Since when did you care so much?"

"Don't ask stupid questions," Yuan retorts hotly, "Our business with Lloyd is over. There's nothing else we can do to help or hinder him." Yuan casts his eyes upwards. "This... This isn't our fight anymore." Frowning, Yuan returns his gaze to Kratos'. "This stopped being our fight the moment you released Origin's seal. You trust Lloyd, don't you?"

"With my life."

"Then shut up and rest, dammit."

With a frown, Kratos looks back at Dirk's house, at Anna's grave.

"Fine," he says, "Give me ten minutes, then you can take me wherever it is you plan on taking me."

Kratos knows where Yuan plans to take him, but Kratos has always been keen on saying unnecessary things. And the human has the gall to say that Yuan talks too much.

Kratos stalks over to Anna's grave. Yuan follows him and maintains a distance of five steps the entire time.

'Since when did you care so much?' Yuan has always cared. Yuan never stopped caring, not once in these four thousand years. No one on either planet knows Yuan's struggle like Kratos does, and no one on either planet knows Kratos' struggle like Yuan does.

Kratos changed his mind when he met Anna, when Lloyd was born, and all Yuan thought of that was 'it's about time'. It took four thousand years and a human's love to tell Kratos that Mithos' ideal world is, in fact, the opposite of ideal, and that Martel has always wanted something different.

All that time, however, Yuan had been powerless to stop either of them. Yuan had to bide his time. Yuan had to gather resources, had to exploit power he didn't want to but had to, just to be able to scratch the surface of the power Mithos and Kratos had combined.

Maybe at one point Yuan thought it better to give in to his dear friend's twisted ideals, but in the end, he knew better. Yuan knew better. Yuan knew Martel in a way neither of them had, but he'd been powerless to stop Mithos and that damned Eternal sword. He'd known better, but he'd been powerless.

Kratos touches the writing on Anna's grave with reverence. Yuan looks away.

Sometimes time means nothing to Yuan. Sometimes he forgets that it's been four thousand years. Surrounded by half-elves and angels, sometimes Yuan forgets.

But Kratos is human. Anna had been human. Lloyd is human. Humans experience time differently, though Yuan doubts Kratos has a full understanding of what time is anymore, either.

"Let's go," Kratos says curtly, walking past Yuan. There's no time for Yuan to intercept his movement and he scowls, following after him.

* * *

They travel to the nearest Renegade base. Kratos has recovered enough mana to release his wings and they unfurl in a bright blue burst of light.

Yuan coaxes Kratos to sleep by suppressing his mana with his own, chasing what little remains to the cracks and crevices in Kratos' body, away from his consciousness. Yuan is familiar with this mana, knows the signature like the back of his hand, and he feels at ease when he hears Kratos' breathing trail off into a slow, steady pace.

Yuan leans back in his seat. Naturally, he offered Kratos his own bed. The rich colours of his personal quarters are dull on his tired eyes, the air stale on his skin, heightened senses scraped thin by exhaustion.

Yuan doesn't understand time, and he isn't aware when his eyes fall shut and he drifts off.

* * *

They're both awakened by an earthquake. Yuan snaps to attention, immediately reaching out with his mana. He's disappointed when his reach falls shorter than normal, but he knows why.

The reason sits up in his bed, startled by the sudden harsh movement. They exchange glances.

The world is coming together. The world is being restored.

Yuan reaches for Mithos' mana, a reflex he hadn't bothered to unlearn. Derris-Kharlan had never been farther than his mana could reach, especially knowing the all-encompassing levels of mana Mithos possessed, though Mithos had taken to staying within Sylvarant and Tethe'alla anyway. But his reach comes up empty.

One look at Kratos and he knows the man is doing the same. Next comes the search for Lloyd. The results will either ease or increase the tension in Kratos' body.

Yuan reaches for Kratos' mana. He extends a hand to touch one of Kratos', just to be sure.

His mana has tipped into optimal levels, but he still hasn't fully recovered. Yuan can say the same thing about himself.

Kratos doesn't react to Yuan's probing. After a few heavy breaths, he deflates, shoulders pressed against Yuan's headboard.

"Do you want to talk to him?" Yuan asks.

Kratos stares at his feet. Eventually he lifts his head to look at Yuan.

"Yes," he replies, "But-- I will give him some time to recover."

Yuan snorts. "Of course. You can spare your son that luxury, but not yourself?"

"It's not the same."

"Letting him rest gives you time to rest as well, Kratos."

Kratos sighs. "Yuan."

"What."

"I've been... Ungrateful." His eyes have fallen to look at the sheets again. "I'm not sure I would have extended the same courtesy to you had you been in my place."

"Had I been in your place, I'm sure the worlds would have been reunited years ago," Yuan retorts. He returns to his seat and slumps, just a little. "It's alright. I accept your apology."

Quiet fills the room, takes up the space between them. It expands, inflates, rises and rises as Yuan gathers his thoughts and his breath. He'll have to inspect the damage soon. He'll have to check his documents; maybe he has old records of what the world used to be like, back before he and Kratos and Martel and Mithos had set out to rend it asunder.

When Kratos speaks again, the quiet collapses into nothing in an instant. "What do you plan to do now?"

"Inspect the damage. See what needs to be cleaned up." Yuan pauses to think. "Inspect the new tree of mana."

Kratos' breath fills the air. "Yes. It has germinated, but... I can't tell to what stage."

"Derris-Kharlan should have provided enough mana for it to sprout, at least," Yuan replies.

Kratos falls silent again. Yuan lets his mind wander, mapping out the most efficient route to the Tower of Salvation, identifying who should look through his belongings and when, making mental notes of what to do next, what he can do next.

"Derris-Kharlan..." Kratos speaks up, "It's still in orbit."

"Yes?" Yuan focuses on one of Kratos' shoulderpads as he reaches out with his mana again. "That's odd. There shouldn't be any mana links keeping it anchored to this planet's gravity."

"I'll take care of it," Kratos states, stirring from his prostrate position.

Yuan reaches out to stop him. He catches Kratos by the knee.

"And then what?" Yuan asks, "Do you plan on destroying the planet? Do you plan on extracting its mana? Are you hatching another plot to end your life?"

Kratos hesitates. He doesn't move to stand, but he doesn't resume his previous state, either. "I... I don't know. I'll have to decide when I get there."

Yuan catches Kratos' gaze. Despite his status as an angelic being that has transcended his human state, Kratos looks tired. He looks as if a few more years in bed could do him some good.

"Fine," Yuan acquiesces. He removes his hand from Kratos' knee with reluctance. "But when you get there, think about Lloyd. He's your son. He needs you in his life."

"Lloyd doesn't need me," Kratos mutters.

"Maybe," Yuan concedes, "Maybe he doesn't need you. But he probably wants you in his life. You're his father, or have you already forgotten?"

"I've never forgotten," Kratos spits.

"You've never acted like it," Yuan retorts.

"What do you know what it's like to act as a father?" Kratos' voice has sharp edges, but no trace of any real malice.

"I don't, but I'm very certain fathers aren't supposed to challenge their children to violent duels."

Kratos averts his gaze. "I never... I never intended to kill him."

Yuan sighs. "I suppose it doesn't matter, seeing as Lloyd was strong enough, anyway. This time, at least."

Kratos gets to his feet. As he stretches his limbs, his wings unfurl from his back, blinding Yuan yet again. Yuan can feel silence lay down its foundations, but Kratos stops it in its tracks by speaking.

"I must also verify the status of Cruxis, and Welgaia," Kratos says, "I'm afraid I'll have to ask Lloyd for yet another favour."

"He won't be able to bring you back, Kratos."

"I know."

Yuan stands and approaches Kratos. Their eyes meet and Kratos doesn't back down, not this time.

"So do you plan on preserving your life or not?" Yuan asks.

"I will do my best. Lloyd wouldn't accept anything less. But you know that the remains of Cruxis still pose a threat." Kratos crosses his arms over his chest. "Or do you plan of taking care of it for me?"

"You're the one with a child, Kratos. What have I got left to lose?"

Kratos rolls his eyes. "It wasn't a serious question, Yuan. Although you are an angel, Mithos had declared you a threat when you attacked him. None of the other angels will listen to you."

Scowling, Yuan replies, "Fine. Deprive yourself and your son of a connection both of you could benefit from. It seems you've made up your mind."

Kratos rests a hand on Yuan's shoulder. "You know I must do this."

With a sigh, Yuan eventually allows himself a nod. "Yes. Fine." He turns his head to look at the hand on his shoulder. "You've yet to die, I won't be surprised if you fail to do it this time."

"An optimistic outlook."

Yuan doesn't deem that comment worthy a response. However, he comes to regret his silence when Kratos takes it as an opportunity to engage in further physical contact.

It's been years since they've been so entwined with each other's personal space for a purpose that isn't practical. Kratos feels like he always has, all rigid muscle and rigid posture. Mana warms his body and his blood, feigning humanity, but Yuan knows better. He knows Kratos like the back of his hand, and this is unnecessary.

He returns the embrace anyway. Perhaps Kratos has picked up some new scars while working with Cruxis, but Yuan doesn't have the leisure to confirm the suspicion.

When Kratos pulls back, Yuan's flooded with sentiment. He and Kratos have been friends, friends for years. He doesn't want to put this old friend to rest, not yet, but this exchange is too close to a goodbye for Yuan's tastes.

"Don't die, Kratos." His words are fierce, his expression is harsh, but his tone is calm, steady, worried; a betrayal.

Kratos smiles. "I'll do my best."

But no promises.

At least Anna could use some company, he's sure. Mithos now, also.

Yuan crosses his arms over his chest. "Good. If you have time, give a report on Derris-Kharlan to one of my men. I'll go and inspect the Great Tree."

Kratos moves towards the door. "Shall we go together?"

One last time, for old times' sake. Ridiculously sentimental, but Yuan feels like he can allow it this once.

"Fine."

Kratos touches his elbow as they move towards the exit. They take the skies once more, ethereal wings reflecting light from the shared sun.


End file.
